Carousel
by Liberrrty
Summary: Anthy meets Utena for the first time, but who is it that she really meets/ A sidenote to the Nebulae series.


This is something I just had to do. If you don't like it stop reading. Really I wouldn't blame you.

I don't own Shoujo Kakumei Utena.

* * *

Round and round the carousel goes. Round and round and round. Children get on and off, off and on. Does that make me the horsey then?

Play with me. Dress me up in your mind. Ribbon my mane, plait my tail. Costume me as the damsel, the siren, the harpy. It's all true. Even my name is yours for the taking. I am nobody unless you want me to be. Use your imagination your highness. I only serve to please.

Though, I care nothing for you children. You ride me with such glee but one set of sticky fingers is no different to the rest. The pony is made of painted plaster. It cannot feel your clumsy prodding no matter how hard you cling tight. Have fun kids.

Mayflies, that's what you are. Inconsequential things that buzz in your ear then drop to the earth without even making a sound. That's unfair. I like insects. Each one is different, each one is special. Why do they have to die so fast? I want you to run along my fingers on last time. But then you fly away. I thought you were my friends but you always fly away. Why? Stay.

So I'm the god that traps you in the jar. Shakes you just to make you swarm and grow angry. It's right to hate me. I keep on shaking until the movement stops. Still the droning sound haunts me. It's my fault they sting me, I sealed off the hive. Stop swarming me, stop crowding me. Get away, please. Just get away from me. Raging, bloodthirsty mob.

But it's my fault, my fault, my fault. A tyrant who came and stomped all over the little ant's home. It's for the best if I just bottle them up. Poor ants, they just wanted to live with their family in peace. Had to destroy a whole nest when the only valuable one is the queen. That one is doomed from birth. Poor thing. Poor wretched broken thing. You're not really special at all are you? None of the others were either.

I admit, it is fun to see worms squirm from time to time. And I unearth so many when gardening. Such tiny little pebbles you struggle and scream against. Grains of sand really...

"He doesn't love me!"

"My friends are ignoring me!"

You and everyone else. Try having a body where the only place that isn't scarred is the open wounds. Not so much skin anymore but a mosaic. Part painted by you, part painted by me. If you saw my true face you could never mistake me for a person. You'd scream and run for the hills. These are damaged goods.

But you can't see that. No-one is allowed to see that. So my china doll face is glued on. Because I must smile sweetly and be _loveable_. A pure little beauty that just needs to get over her shyness. Well to whoever I need to be anyway. Love can be such a dirty, sordid lie can't it? Serves you right for being so naive.

To the rest I am a grindstone. The trick is not to bash or spark the metal and trust me I know about blades. Wear it down gradually, slowly. With time it becomes sharp to touch, and there's always time. Even the most resistant alloy sharpens on its own accord in the end.

That's when the fun begins. Anger is so much better than hypocrisy don't you think? You hate me remember?. I deserve it, you know I deserve it. Don't try to pretend otherwise. Go on I dare you.

It's always only a matter of time _your highness_. Prince will fall off his horse sooner or later. The more you resist the harder the impact. Pain is a strange drug isn't it? I shouldn't, but it's addictive. I can't quit. Sorry plaything. Buzz bumblebee buzz.

A secret. I need you to hurt me. A new smarting pain is much better than an old dull throbbing one, somehow it just is. It's breaking the lies that bind us both. Humans are just animals with a superiority complex. Roll around in the dirt with the rest of us and drop the pretence for once. Fly off little bee, fly off.

* * *

Brother. The honey in our bug trap. No, not 'our'. Is anything really our? Light bulbs and moths and something cliché, that's him. Myths, legends and any old impressive sounding yarn to keep the fishes hooked. It's said that all angel has to do to become a demon is lose his wings. Mere feathers denote a whole celestial status. Tragic really.

If you're trapped in paradise, is it still a prison? He's happy in his carefree, hedonistic way, so different to me. He has his toys to play with, so many different toys. He even seems contented with the little games. Magic games and tricks of the light. Conman tricks and confidence hacks. Keeps him quiet while I do the work. Baby makes a mess and mother clears it up.

It's _twisted_ to be that way with him isn't it? Just _wrong_. Well that's what I am, twisted all over. I don't know how. I don't know who. I don't know why. All I know is that sometimes somehow it feels good. I think. Sometime, somehow I might get closer to him. I think. Maybe, maybe, maybe.

I think I've tainted him. I'm like mould in bread flour. I just rot everything I touch. I probably yanked the holy plumage off myself, but I've forgotten. Like everything I forget. Turn away, block it out and forget. Always taking the easy route, aren't you _Anthy?_

Just because you wanted to feel wanted. Just because you wanted to feel warmth. Just because you wanted to feel _loved._ Love is a lie remember? Now look what you've done. Take it out on him with your silly little games and he takes it out on you. Tit for tat. Tit for stupid little tat. He can hurt you the most but only because you let him.

How did we get to where we are? What are we? It doesn't matter. Like everything there was before it doesn't matter. All that matters is that he is the only other one. There are two and then he swans off and then there is one. Just one.

Me. So I amuse myself with silly games and pranks and tricks. Entertain myself. Converse with myself. Myself. My very own demented self for just doing this. I can't stand myself. The only time I feel, or is that just allow myself to feel, anger is when looking at the mirror. Witch. No wonder they want to tear you apart.

Memories. Pain. Emotions. Guilt. That's all I am. A pathetic mess that can only watch as they consume her.

Block it out again. Forget everything again. Hurt yourself using them as a form of _therapy, _become a blank slate for whoever wants to write on me again. And again and again. Stuck in a cycle that goes around and around.

* * *

Time isn't linear in eternity. A snake eating its own tail makes otherwise impossible loops and twists. Infinity has no beginning or end. That brings with it multi-presence. My lifeline is circular.

Isit by the window sipping my tea as usual. Outside at sea a boat. Myself, who is very much unlike myself. She's confident. Happy within herself. Her hair is down, her glasses are off. She's _showing _her scars. How can this be?

With her is a woman, you can sense her 'nobility' from a mile off. Yet there is a sadness in her face, not so dissimilar to mine as I stand next to her. A pain shared maybe? Her youthfulness has been worn away by some hardship. So this is what they look like after we toss them aside.

They look up at the fortress that is Ohtori. Both figures are still for a few moments.

The impossible happens. I shake and crumple forward slightly. I am crying, truly crying in front of her. Not rehearsed, perfect teardrops but real sobbing. I fall further. I look to be on the verge on mental breakdown. Why don't I run away from her? She's got you in her hands now idiot. She puts her arms around me and whispers to me. She knows this is what I am but still she does this...

Then I laugh! Not an artificially saccharine giggle or a cackle at something inappropriate but a real joy filled laugh. I put my arms around her and kiss her. Only a peck. A single, grateful, contented peck. This definitely isn't for business reasons. I actually _love_ her. What on earth is going on?

The woman leaves and the ship slowly turns back out to sea. I still stand on the deck, staring straight at my current self.

Hope is a very dangerous thing.

* * *

I wrote this to get some stuff off my chest. I shouldn't really have published it but I did. I hope I can find my way out of my own coffin someday. Later.


End file.
